


Audience of One

by Glittering_Darmallon



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Found Family, Holidays, M/M, Pre-Slash, Ryder wanted to be a musician, Secret Gift Exchanges, non-default ryder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 13:22:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17002458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glittering_Darmallon/pseuds/Glittering_Darmallon
Summary: A discussion of Milky Way holidays leads to the Tempest Crew creating one of their own, complete with a secret gift exchange of handmade gifts. Sean Ryder, pulled Jaal's name out of the hat, and it should have been a great thing. The only problem: Sean wasn't good at making things.





	Audience of One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Features non-default Ryder, but he's not really described much, you could imagine any male Ryder in there. There is a small fanmix to go with the fic if you wish to listen.

 

“Damn it!” Sean shook out his finger after stabbing it with a needle again...again for the tenth time. _This_ was the worst idea he’d had in a long time. Why did he think making a scarf for Jaal was a good idea? It’s not like the Angara even needed cold weather gear anyway. 

 

When Jaal had asked about holidays back in the Milky Way, Suvi (and of course she did) brought up Christmas. Sean couldn’t hold it against her though, he’d loved Christmas as a kid back before his family decided it was just too much trouble to celebrate on the Citadel. But somewhere between Suvi’s descriptions of all the lights and decorations and gifts, Lexi suggested perhaps the crew make up their own sort of holiday to celebrate their new found family. And so Tempesttime was created.

 

He ran his hands through his blonde hair. What had he been thinking calling it Tempesttime? Ugh, he would have to work on a better name. In his slightly inebriated brain, it had sounded _fabulous_ at the time. Now it just sounded half-assed. 

 

They’d put names into a helmet for a secret gift exchange. That would have been just fine, but someone, and fuck if he could remember who it was, suggested the gifts had to be handmade. Had his crew _met_ him? Sean didn’t make things; he smashed them like a biotic-fueled battering ram. He had neither the patience or the skill for handicrafts. 

 

With wistful eyes, he stared over at the two things he’d brought from home. He wasn’t sure how they’d come to have it in the first place, but a few years before he left, he’d found a vintage guitar in a shop on the Citadel. It didn’t work, but Sinead was good with mechanical things, and his sister fixed it up, along with the amplifier that came with it. She made them work with the current sources of power and plugs. Honestly, it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him, especially after his dad “lovingly” convinced him to give up the idea of being a musician (for which he’d never forgiven the man for).

 

It was not as though he lacked in talent either. On the contrary, Sean felt music was one of the only things he _was_ good at...besides talking to people. He was an extrovert; so sue him.

 

He set aside his sad attempt at a scarf and went over to his guitar. Would Jaal like a song? Only one way to find out.

 

***

 

“Heyyyyyyy.” Sean leaned against the wall in the Tech Lab, praying his tone came across as cool rather than whiny but he couldn’t be sure.

 

“Ryder, what can I do for you?”

 

“So, those vid components you asked me to find…”

 

Jaal looked up from where he sat tinkering with his rifle, “What about them?”

 

“Do the Angara use things like that for music?”

 

Jaal rubbed his chin. “Yes, though I admit, it’s been some time since I have experienced music in that manner.”

 

“Long time since experiencing live music or just with those fancy electri-dermal things?”

 

“Hmm, both,” Jaal said, standing. “Life in the Resistance doesn’t lend itself to that often.”

 

Sean mentally cringed. “Do you...like music? Is that a thing Angarans like?”

 

“Oh yes!” His eyes lit up. “We have the rivaan which works with our bioelectricity.”

 

Jaal continued talking about the enchanting sounds the instrument could make, and Sean, loath as he was to admit it, found himself getting lost in the deep timbre of Jaal’s voice. Honestly, the man talked like a daydream felt. There was such a soothing quality to it. When finally Jaal stopped, as though waiting for input, Sean felt like a scolded puppy.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m going to be honest, I drifted a bit there, trying to imagine what a rivaan sounded like. Your description was just so vivid. I should have been more focused on the conversation. I apologize.”

 

Jaal gave him a shy smile, eyes flitting off to the side for the briefest of moments. “Well, I am glad my stories amuse you.”

 

“That and your exuberance. Both are quite compelling. No wonder the team felt sucked in by that children’s story you told them. You are a gifted storyteller, Jaal.”

 

Was that...was Jaal blushing? Hard to tell. No...the more Sean looked at him, the more he was _sure_ that was a blush on Jaal’s face. Good to know.

 

***

 

A knock on the outside of his door drew a groan from Sean. “What part of please do not disturb do they not understand?” he mumbled as he stopped recording. He needed to get these melody lines down so he could practice the main guitar lines for this informal performance he’d decided to put on. The true test of skill would be combining them. This style, classical, wasn’t one he’d used much, and he was 600 yrs out of practice. Sure it felt like a year, but semantics.

 

He had...two weeks, and he was getting nowhere with the constant interruptions.

 

“What is it?”

 

Cora’s voice cut through the metal of the door, “We’re just about to land. We’ll be dockside in ten.”

 

Ten minutes? He could work with that. As he reset his sheet music, he hurried to press record and began to once again lay down the backing track for his simplified arrangement of the theme from “Swan Lake.”

 

See, at first, he’d thought about sharing some of his favorite songs with Jaal, but they all required vocals, and though Sean could sing just fine, he reasoned that some of the idioms wouldn’t translate well. No, in order to give him the best experience Sean decided to go the instrumental route. Besides, these songs had withstood time for a reason.

 

***

 

As they gathered in his quarters, Sean waited, scalp and nerves prickling in anticipation. Their bellies were full of the little feast Drack had prepared of everyone’s favorite dishes. Now, the only thing left to do was exchange their secret gifts.

 

For appearance’s sake, he’d made a card with instructions for Jaal to follow. It was a shoddy attempt at arts and crafts. Hell, even a child could have made a prettier card. Still, he made it, and that was what counted.

 

“Quiet down, everyone,” Kallo said. Having, declared himself in charge of gift giving, he walked over to the table and picked up a small package, expertly wrapped in gold foil paper. Kallo flipped over the tag. “Ah, this is for you, Drack.”

 

With a flourish, Kallo deposited the box in Drack’s lap and resumed his task. He grabbed the gift basket from the back. Inside, there was a potted flower that looked like it could use a _bit_ more TLC. As Kallo walked closer, Sean could see how the pot in which the plant sat, had been painted, not well, but decently enough to not be a disaster.

 

“This is yours, Cora.” Under Kallo’s other arm, he held a thin, but somewhat large box. “And this is yours, Peebee. Oh my, it’s heavy. Careful. Careful.”

 

Sean’s leg bounced with nerves, and he drummed his fingers on his knee as he watched the flurry around him.

 

“Ryder- Sean,” Jaal corrected himself, “you are quiet tonight. It is unlike you.”

 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I guess I’m just nervous.”

 

With a thoughtful hum, Jaal tilted his head towards the dwindling pile of gifts. “Are you worried your gift will be poorly received?”

 

“No. I am sure they will like it. It’s complicated to explain when they haven’t received their gift yet.”

 

“I ...see.”

 

“Oh come now! This box is empty!” Kallo shook the small box which contained the card for Jaal.

 

Liam hopped up off the couch, “I highly doubt-” he shook the box. “Well I’ll be.”

 

“I’m sure it isn’t empty,” Suvi said. “Maybe it’s just very small.”

 

Kallo snatched the box back from Liam and walked it over to Jaal. “I really hope there is a present actually in here.”

 

Jaal stared at the box for a long minute, before setting it back down in his lap. When all the gifts had been passed out, it was time to open them.

 

“What is it?” Peebee asked, jangling about what looked like a necklace.

 

Sean could see the slight roll of Lexi’s eyes, but she answered nonetheless. “Those are from remnant bots you lot destroyed. They were circuitry. Now they’re charms.”

 

“Oh cool!”

 

“Hey, it’s a model car, like those old petrol ones. Thanks, Kallo.”

 

Sean looked over to see Kallo showing Liam all the little details he’d put into it.

 

“Did you see the model of the Tempest Gil made for _me_ ?” Kallo asked, showing off Gil’s handiwork. “It’s made perfectly to scale, even if he _did_ include models of his modifications. Look, I can even take this part off to see the engines.”

 

Beside him, Jaal stood and walked over to Suvi who had been flagging him over. “You didn’t include instructions for how to prepare it.”

 

Now he was curious, so Sean walked over to see what it was that Jaal had given her. “Did you give her tea?”

 

“Yes, well no. It’s an Angaran beverage _similar_ to tea. The plant grows on Aya, but I blended it with dried fruit. So you use the scoop I gave you, and it takes two scoops for a teapot the size of yours. And these,” he said of the little square pieces of fabric, “go underneath your cup. I do not know what you call them, but they protect the table from drips.”

 

“Coasters,” Sean and Suvi said in unison.

 

“Coasters,” Jaal said, as though the word felt strange on his tongue.

 

“Hot damn! Is this an eiroch bone?” Drack’s cheer pulled Sean’s attention away from Jaal and Suvi.

 

“Yeah, I used a mini laser to engrave it.” Peebee clapped him on the back. “I thought, ‘Drack, now there’s a guy who likes bones.’ So I used the biggest one I could find, and ta-da. You get this masterpiece.”

 

Sean felt someone bump into his shoulder and looked over to see Vetra standing there.

 

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?”

 

“Oh sorry. I was distracted by watching everyone else.” His fingers made short work of the wrapping. Inside lay a dozen metal guitar picks.

 

“They’re a mix. Some are Angaran metal, Kett alloys, and Remnant. Stole one of your old ones to use as a pattern. It’s underneath.”

 

“Thanks! These are great, Vetra.” He spread his arms wide. “Come on. Bring it in,” he said before hugging her. “So, what did you get?”

 

“Drack infused some Turian alcohol for me. He says ‘Made it good and spicy.’ So should be a fun burn to drink.”

 

The rest of the crew had already unwrapped their gifts before he had. Suvi had made a deck of hand drawn playing cards for Gil. Liam had grown that sad plant for Cora, but she’d assured him that it was the thought that counted. Cora, in turn, had given Lexi a datapad filled with everything she could find on Kett physiology and had built a small Kett anatomy model for use in further autopsies.

 

“I couldn’t help but notice this card said ‘This isn’t actually your gift.’ So now you have me naturally, quite curious as to what my present actually is,” Jaal said, returning to his side.

 

Sean rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t give it to you with everyone in here. It’s yours and not for them. Give me a few minutes to clear everyone out.”

 

That few minutes took quite a bit longer than he’d anticipated. Several grumbles and complaints about killing the party came his way, but he just redirected the group to the conference room. Finally, when only he and Jaal remained, he maneuvered Jaal to the sofa. “I gotta set up. No peeking.

 

Thankfully, he’d already rigged his system up, complete with the special audio components and lighting. All that remained was plugging into the amp. No sweat.

 

_Okay, Sean. You can do this. He’s just anybody else you might play for. Not at all a guy you have a crush on._ If he was being honest with himself, crush was putting it lightly. That, however, was a conversation to have with himself on another day.

 

He pulled the ottoman over and sat down, resting his guitar on his thigh, in classical position. Then, he began to play the opening notes to the melody line of Bach’s “Air on G String.” It had exuberance, depth, and was a fine way to start. Once the song opened up into a swelling arrangement, the sound filled his quarters, where, thankfully, the acoustics were decent. The best place for this performance to take place would be down in the cargo hold. The higher ceilings were better suited for it, but that lacked the...intimacy of a private concert. So here they were.

 

Sean tried not to look at Jaal; the anxiety he’d find repulsion over this type of music on his face was too much to bear. However, when he reached the abrupt ending of the song, he made the mistake of meeting Jaal’s eyes and was surprised by what he found. Bright, shining emotion, the kind he knew Jaal couldn’t hide if he tried. Rather than tackle it head-on, Sean moved onto the next song.

 

As he moved through the short set he’d created, he felt something in his chest loosen. Maybe it was his nerves settling, apprehension leaving his shoulders, or perhaps he was letting his emotion show on his face, the same way Jaal had been on his. By the time he completed the intricate rise and fall of “Clair de Lune,” he felt lighter than he had in a long time. He unplugged and set down his guitar, unable to speak, afraid to break the moment.

 

Instead, it was Jaal who spoke first, his face alight, eyes shining. “I hadn’t heard live music in so long. And with the electro-dermal components, this was...exquisite.”

 

Sean shrugged, sitting down beside him. “The only thing I can make is music. I um, tried to make you a scarf. I failed.”

 

Jaal wrapped him in a hug. “Ryder- Sean, thank you. This was wonderful. _You_ are wonderful.”

 

“I don’t know about that,” he mumbled into Jaal’s shoulder. “But at least it was better than that terrible scarf. I stabbed my finger ten times. Thought this would be more enjoyable than my shitty attempt at sewing.”

 

“It was. It was perfect.”

 

Sean gave him a soft smile. “Well, you deserved it.” The ‘ _You deserve everything,’_ went without saying. There would be time for that another day.


End file.
